


Out of Focus

by Wonderlandleighleigh



Series: Photos old and new [11]
Category: Batman (Comics), Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Tim Drake, Crossover, F/M, OFC - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21745927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderlandleighleigh/pseuds/Wonderlandleighleigh
Summary: The beginning of Tim and Ramona's relationship, as told from Tim's point of view.
Relationships: Bart Allen/Stephanie Brown, Brief Tim Drake/Conner Kent, Tim Drake/Ramona Winchester
Series: Photos old and new [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/538912
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Out of Focus

1.

Two hours of arguing later, and they’re both exhausted. There’s nothing else to say.

“I think…” 

Tim almost doesn’t finish the sentence. He glances at Stephanie sadly. 

“I think after everything that’s happened...dying and...and coming back...what the Joker did to me...I think I’m not that person anymore.” 

He hates saying this.

“I’m not your person anymore, Steph.” 

2\. 

When Steph starts kissing Bart, he starts kissing Conner, and that’s…

A thing he does that’s nice but-

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Conner tells him. “I know Cassie and I are on a break and all, Rob, but...you and I…” 

Tim nods slowly. He gets it. He gets that they are best friends and Conner values that too much to jeopardize with what is probably a rebound. 

No, it’s definitely a rebound. 

He loves Conner. He’s just not...y’know. In love with Conner. 

So they go back to the way things were and it’s…

Well. 

3\. 

He lands hard on that fire escape, and suddenly he’s being stared at by a bunch of fellow 19-year-olds, and it’s…

Embarrassing, mostly. 

Okay, it’s definitely embarrassing. 

The window opens, though, and out steps a petite blonde. 

He sits up quickly, trying to ignore just how green her eyes are. “I’m fine,” he says firmly. 

“Okay,” she says gently. “But it’s getting kinda chilly. Eat this, it’ll at least warm you up.”

She hands him a bowl, and then quickly hops back into the apartment and out of the cold. 

He looks down and takes a breath and it’s…

It smells amazing. 

He eats quickly, partially because he’s still being stared at by the people inside and partially because it’s great. It’s rare that things actually taste like anything these days (it took so long for whatever the Joker pumped into him to wear off, it’s been hard to feel or taste much of anything in the last year).

He leaves the bowl when he’s done.

4\. 

It’s been a while since he dreamt about anything other than blood-curdling laughter and pain.

But he dreams of that blonde and her green eyes, and he wakes up feeling less frayed at the edges. 

It’s a relief. 

5\. 

What isn’t a relief is Rosaline Warner. 

She’s tall, and thin and pale, and dark-haired and she really wants Tim.

Well, she really wants the money she thinks Tim has. 

It seems that every charity event, she’s just...There. Hanging on his arm, giggling in his ear, calling him “Timmy” which…

It’s one thing when Jason calls him that. Or Steph. Or really anybody he considers family. 

It’s quite another when it’s a whiney, cloying...he doesn’t want to use the word “twit” but…

She winds up kissing him one night, and her lips are dry from the liquid lipstick she’s wearing.

She, like many things these days, tastes like ash, and he feels nothing, but she’s clearly thrilled, so…

So…

So whatever, right? 

Right.

6\. 

He stops back to say thank you (relieved for a sharp memory that managed to hold onto which fire escape exactly he landed on that night, and to have a name for his impromptu chef: Ramona), and leaves with a thermos of very, very good coffee. 

So he tags along to the Bowery Famer’s Market, glancing around as he follows Jason, who eats...surprisingly healthy food. 

“The good coffee is over there,” Jason tells him, nodding towards a stall, where, low and behold, Ramona stands, smiling at the vendor as she pays for a bag. 

“Who is that?” Jason asks, his voice vaguely impressed. 

“What?” 

“The pretty blonde,” Jason says. “Or were you more enthralled by the coffee, you weirdo?” 

“I don’t know,” Tim lies. “I’ve got plenty of coffee at home. I was gonna grab some duck eggs though. Alfred’s been making noises about the store-bought stuff being poor quality lately.” 

7\. 

He manages to meet her out of costume at Leslie’s clinic, and it…

It feels so good to feel so normal. To meet someone in a normal way. 

Ramona is pretty, and sharp. She’s friendly, but there’s an acerbicness to her wit that keeps him amused and interested. She’s clever, and she knows it and that’s a little like Steph, but there’s something different about Ramona; something quiet that Tim connects with in...in a way he’s not sure about.

But it’s there.

When Ramona heads out, Tim turns to Leslie quickly. 

“Tell me everything about her.” 

Leslie laughs, obviously amused. “Tim, you could have just asked her yourself.” 

“I’m bad at that.” 

The older woman shakes her head. “Ramona’s from the midwest. She moved here to go to culinary school, and she works at Jackson’s.” 

“Jackson’s,” Tim parrots back. “Right.” 

8\. 

Their walks from Jackson’s back to her apartment on Park Row are so nice. 

It’s so nice to just take a walk with someone who isn’t constantly asking how he is, or where his head’s at or if he needs anything. 

He loves his family dearly. Bruce and Alfred and Dick and Jason and Duke and Cass and Babs and Steph and even Damian. They’ve all done their damndest to help him claw his way back to the land of the living in a real way.

But sometimes he just wants to talk to someone who isn’t worried all the time. 

And Ramona fits that bill so nicely. 

“I love snow,” he says as it dusts their shoulders and hair.

“Me too,” Ramona tells him, and he watches as flakes hit her nose.

And it’s...it’s great.

9\. 

Which is why it can’t possibly be perfect.

He’s usually a little better at keeping Tim Drake’s facial expressions different from Red Robin’s, but apparently he can’t help himself when faced with Ramona Winchester and her green eyes. 

The kiss is soft, and sweet, and she tastes like coffee and cream, and she’s wearing a slightly sticky lip gloss that makes him smile a little before pulling away and hopping off her fire escape to swing back into patrol. 

“Who was that?” Barbara’s voice comes in over the comms. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Tim tells her quietly. “And don’t tell anybody.” 

10\. 

He waits nervously in the front hall for Ramona to arrive at the manor. 

Wayne Foundation Charity Galas are generally no big deal, but this will be Ramona’s first as his date, and…

“TIMMY!” 

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Rosaline.” 

“Were you waiting for me?” she asks, leaning in and poking his nose. “Such a sweet-” 

“Actually I’m waiting for my date,” he tells her. 

It’s quick, the way Rosaline’s face goes from happy to insulted. She calls him an ass and storms off, just in time for Ramona to step inside, looking around.

She looks beautiful. Her dress is deep blue, clearly something she found in a department store, and totally perfect on her. 

“Hi,” he smiles, leaning in and kissing her cheek. “You look great.” 

Ramona beams. “So do you.” 

“It’s the tux.” 

She smirks and tugs him closer by the lapels of his jacket. “Sure it is.” 

11\. 

Bruce is Bruce and Bruce trusts no one, specifically girls who pop up out of nowhere and start dating his sons. 

So Tim finds out more about Ramona than he really needs to right now. About a lonely, neglected childhood. 

“This was wrong, Bruce.” 

“You needed to know.” 

“Know what? How terrible this all is?” 

“Tim-” 

It dawns on him later, as he reassures Ramona that none of it actually matters, that while the trappings were polar opposites, it’s not so different from weeks spent by himself in his parents’ home when they were away on business. 

Ramona is haunted, and so is he. By painfully different lives, obviously, but…

But…

And for the first time, he opens up- really opens up - about what happened to him. 

About the Joker and the horrors he visited upon him, and the result. 

His hands are shaking by the time he’s done explaining, and Ramona is holding them tightly.

12\. 

Sex isn’t something Tim is terribly focused on. He’s never felt needy the way he’s seen some men act needy when it comes to sex, and he always thought there was something wrong with him, because it didn’t take up as much brain space as it did for Kon or Bart of Dick…

But...

But this...with her… 

Lying in her bed, her bare skin pressed to his, curled up in the afterglow, feeling his eyes drift shut against his will. 

He doesn’t want this feeling to end...but he hasn’t been this relaxed in…

13\. 

“I don’t know if I like her.” 

“You don’t have to like her,” Tim reminds Conner as they get in from a long mission. 

“As your best friend-” 

“You don’t have to like her,” Tim repeats. “Kon, you went back to Cassie. You said you just wanted to be friends, so we’re friends. Be my friend. I like her. A lot. Support me.” 

Conner sighs heavily and shakes his head. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” 

14\. 

Poverty isn’t something he’s familiar with. Even when he was alone, he had the funds to do the things he needed to do. There was never any question of having enough food or a roof over his head. 

He’s aware of Jason’s past, and how little he had out on the streets, but Jason hides those pains and insecurities in ways that Ramona doesn’t manage. 

He read the file Bruce compiled. He knows that Ramona’s family lived out of motels and their car for nearly sixteen years; that there were years of food insecurities and neglect.

That these are things that embarrass her in ways he doesn’t know how to address at all. The shame written on her face when they talk about him moving into her very small, very run-down apartment...the flush of her skin when he finds the drawer filled with condiment packets…

He figures if he makes a big deal out of them, she’ll get more distant; more embarrassed, and so he doesn’t. 

Ramona is right about the fact that his very expensive things are a stark contrast to her apartment; so out of place.

But easy to ignore.

15.

It’s hard to have the shoe on the other foot. To be the one to wait and wait and wait for someone to come home when you know they’re doing something life threatening. 

Ghosts and demons are real.

Which Tim knew, mostly in theory (aside from Etrigan), but...it’s different when someone else is the expert. 

He’s not used to not being the expert. 

It’s scary. It feels like putting on a coat that’s too small in the arms.

When Ramona finally comes home, covered in blood (“It’s not mine if that helps,”), he can do nothing but hold onto her tightly.

16\. 

Watching Ramona and Steph together is another terrifying experience. He’s never felt that whole “mrs. and the ex” thing so hard as he does watching the two blondes - Steph with her muscular, taller form; her strong shoulders and tanned skin, and Ramona: petite and rosy-cheeked, big green eyes expressive and mouth wide and smiling sweetly - chat away. 

About him, he thinks. They’re talking about him. 

Thrilling.

Terrifying. 

17\. 

Nightmares are fewer and farther between now, but they still happen, and sometimes Tim wakes up in a cold sweat, eyes wide, not knowing where he is. 

“You’re not fine,” Ramona says gently when he tells her he is, and she’s right. 

He shakes hard, but it lessens when she rests her hands on him. When she wraps her arms around his chest tightly.

18.

He meets Crowley, which is an experience he never wants to have again, and after that Ramona is a lot more open about the monster hunting thing. 

He learns all about how to protect himself; how to defend himself, and it becomes another tool in his ever-growing arsenal, which is great.

But they never hear from Crowley again.

“Whatever happened to that guy?” Tim asks. 

“Oh, Daddy killed him,” Ramona says off-handedly. 

Tim blinks. “I...he did?” 

“Yep. Got mad. Killed him.” 

Tim thinks about the moral implications of that. That Crowley was a demon inhabiting a human’s body. A human he had already killed. Ramona had explained the concept of meat suits, so he knows that what Dean Winchester had killed wasn’t actually a living human being. 

It’s still…

It’s all so…

Gray. 

19\. 

He gets off of patrol one night to find Ramona standing stock still in the kitchen, eyes focused on nothing at all, burned food on the stove, wooden spoon in her hand. 

“Hey,” he says gently, walking over quickly and turning the burner off. “Ramona? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” 

“They died,” Ramona says quietly, looking at him, but not really looking at him. 

“They who?” Tim asks, stepping closer to her. “Who died?” 

“Her father.” 

It’s that Angel. Castiel. 

Tim turns and looks at him. 

“And her uncle,” Castiel adds. “They saved the world. Again. But...it was time.” 

“Bring them back,” Ramona says suddenly; firmly. “Bring them back, Cass.” 

He looks at her sadly. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

“Yes, you can.” 

“Ramona-” 

“Bring them back!” 

“Not this time.” 

She dissolves, then, and Tim’s never seen her like this; helpless. In the face of everything else, she’s been practical and pragmatic. 

Not this time. 

He holds her as she cries against his shoulder with Castiel’s hand on her shoulder. 

20\. 

She leaves him behind to handle the aftermath, and he thinks about following her, but he knows it’d be a very Bruce thing to do. A very Bat thing to do and he’s not interested in emulating that behavior and breaking her trust in him.

So he stays home. He cleans their apartment top to bottom. He works. He patrols. Goes out for drinks with Jason. Plays videogames with Kon and Bart. 

He remembers when his own father died. That he was too late to save him; didn’t get there in time. Tried so hard to save Jack Drake, and failed. He knows what it’s like to have to say goodbye when you know you could have been there; could have tried to stop the inevitable. 

That emptiness never really goes away; that feeling of “coulda, woulda, shoulda” and he knows that Ramona will have it too, now.

When she comes home, late at night, nearly a week later, she walks slowly. Her skin is sallow and eyes sad. 

Tim stands up slowly, and lets her come to rests against him, her head on his chest, his arms wrapping around her head carefully and lips resting against the top of her head. 

“Welcome home,” he says softly.

She relaxes then, melting against him, and he breathes in the scent of old leather, gunsmoke and coffee from her hair.

END


End file.
